


Cold Comfort

by fandumbandflummery



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Temperature Play, fun in the snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 14:32:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10743645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandumbandflummery/pseuds/fandumbandflummery
Summary: Sometimes, all you need is a piece of ice and a willing partner to make an evening.





	Cold Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another tumblr prompt fic - "#71. Temperature Play" from an NSFW prompt list. The name is kinda crap but I had 5 minutes to make one up.

When Bo-Katan returns from rooting around near the tent flap, Pre sees that she has just what she claimed would make their night - a large chunk of icy snow that she places by the fur-piled pallet serving as their temporary bed. 

“I feel like you’re about to start demonstrating low-cost ways of interrogating prisoners on me,” he says with a laugh. He’s still hoping to get off at least one good orgasm on this freezing winter’s night, and spend the rest of it in an endorphin-fueled haze; sharing body heat under their load of contraband furs in the golden glow of several warming lamps. He has no doubt that Bo’ wants the same, but the woman has some odd ideas about how to get to that particular point B from A.

“Trust me, this’ll be neat. C'mon, turn over,” she says with a slightly crazed grin, Bo-Katan breaks a smaller bit of ice off the larger chunk, and slaps Pre’s side lightly as if he’s a balky pack animal when he doesn’t comply immediately. Pre mock-snarls at this, but still does what she says. While Bo-Katan settles on the backs of his thighs, her added weight presses his somewhat neglected hard-on into the thin mattress, and he can’t stop himself gritting his teeth and growling something rude into his flat excuse for a pillow concerning exactly what she could be straddling instead.

“Eh?”

“I said, I hope you’re not planning on putting that thing up my a-hh!”

The ice makes first contact at the spot where the back of his head joins his neck - made all the more sensitive by his most recent buzz-cut - and Pre arches off the bed hard and fast enough that he’s actually a bit worried about cramping his entire array of shoulder and back muscles. The initial jump soon devolves into a shudder, and Pre clutches the pillow from beneath, as Bo-Katan trails the freezing fragment downwards to the sides of his neck, to his deltoids, his shoulders, down his biceps; before trailing down just where his back disappears under the waistline of his shorts, and back up again.

She leaves the ice fragment to sit at the top of his spine for more than few moments past comfort until it feels like its branding his skin with cold, then moves its away, only to replace it with her mouth, lapping and then biting at the spot. It feels like a kriffing blaster burn after the supercooling of his skin under the ice, and Pre moans at the conflicting sensations going straight to his cock, trapped beneath their bodies and the mattress.

“I think I can take that as an “I like that’, mmm?” Bo-Katan snickers into his ear.

“Def'nitely,” he groans, pressing his forehead into the pillow. “Fuck, Bo'ika, just, just keep doing…that.”

And so she does. Leaving his back and shoulders, and giving his ass a quick appreciative squeeze, Bo-Katan moves down to his legs. Swipes of the cold ice and touches her hot mouth alternate on the backs of his thighs, the backs of his knees, his ankles; in places he’d not even thought about being hyper sensitive before but were quickly proving him wrong under the maddening contrast of heat and cold. Every touch of the ice to his skin sends a new rush of arousal through his body, pooling with increasing urgency low in his belly and he can’t help but start to rut against the bed. if only just to give his straining cock some relief. But when the ice grazes between his inner thighs from behind and Pre really thinks he could come from this alone if he cold just get a bit more friction, Bo-Katan stops.

He sits up on his elbows and looks back at her, questioningly. She’s biting her lower lip as if in deep thought, turning the now rapidly shrinking fragment in her hands until it melts to water.

“I wanna try something,” she says, quietly, and Pre nods, for all that he’s half-mad with lust and desperately wants, no, needs to get off, he’s always up - in more ways than one - for anything Bo-Katan can devise.

“Shut your eyes, and just…tell me what you feel,” she says leaning forward and breaking off a new piece from the large chunk.

“Right?” he pants, and obeys, squeezing his eyes shut even if he’s only half-understands what the hell she meant. Pre sucks in a deep, shuddering breath as suddenly two triangular curves of icy water are swiped over his upper back, with a vertical strip drawn between them, extending beyond in a point.

Ah, so that’s what she meant.

“Jai'galaar,” he exhales the word on a breathy moan that’s half a laugh, because really? His own family’s sigil, of course he’d *feel* that one, he’d recognize by sound at this point if pictures could do that. Pre’s thoughts are derailed as Bo starts another ‘drawing’ lower down on his back, at the centre of his spine, where she already knows he’s sensitive. She keeps it simple - an elongated rectangle, with points at the ends where a flat line should be. A familiar enough image to any Mando.

“Beskar kar'ta,” he groans, shivering with the strokes of ice as Bo-Katan fills in her line work.

“Very good,” she purrs against the back of his neck as she lays her hand against the icy patch, and Pre arches his back into the warmth with a happy sigh.

“But let’s try something more…complex. On your side, arms up.”

Pre obeys and rolls over, one arm stretched up and behind his head. Bo-Katan starts drawing again, and Pre tries to ignore the throbbing in his groin to focus on the sensation of the ice and on the shapes it traces in brief flashes of cold and colder. A triangle, an elongated chevron, two curved swipes and a series of quick downward strolls that reach down his ribs to his hipbone, leaving trails of ice water that quickly warm up as they run across his overheated skin. If he was allowed to see, he’d swear he’d see them turning into steam. He tries to focus on the image the disjointed patches of cold form in his mind’s eye.

“K- kyr'bes?” he gasps out, stuttering and uncertain enough that he cracks one eye open to see. He must’ve been right because he’s rewarded with a kiss, and a good firm stroke of his erection where it shows through his shorts, and kriff, *why* is he still wearing the damn things?

“Hey, you’re real good at this, Pre'ika,” she smiles against his mouth, “so. How about you just lie back now.”

He nods and obeys, rolling on his back and stretching. Propping his arms behind his head, he takes a few moments to enjoy the sight of Bo-Katan, bare but for her undershorts, leaning over him to snap off one last piece of ice from the rapidly-melting lump of snow. SheIcy smirks at him as she settles back down, knees spread over his hips - but pointedly avoiding giving him anything to grind against for relief. She reaches down to his face to brush over his eyelids with cool, gentle fingertips.

“And no peeking, di'kut,” she whispers.

Bo-Katan draws slower this time, drawing out the sensation of shocking cold - numbing - warming - as the increasingly slippery ice fragment is dragged across his skin.

First, a circle at the centre of his chest. No, not the centre, a little over to the left, over his…heart?

Then a thicker arch within the circle, followed by a slim triangle extending from its centre point, and two s-shapes beneath and to the side…

Ah.

Pre opens one eye. Bo-Katan is concentrating, looking down at her handiwork and seems oddly transfixed by it. And she doesn’t notice Pre breaking the rules until he reaches up and circles her wrist with his hand, placing her open palm - warm and dry - over the cold trails of ice water, over the spot where she feels the steady pounding of his heart.

He looks her in the eye, rubbing the inside of her wrist with a thumb.

“Ca'senaar,” he says, quietly.

Bo-Katan drops the ice, and instead hauls Pre up for a deep kiss, pouring all the fancy words he knows she has no time for into the gesture of her mouth against his, arms wound tightly around his neck and shoulders, while his own hands settle on her hips. Their grip turns bruising when she finally starts grinding down against him properly, hot and wet even through the fabric of their shorts, and he growls against her mouth, the heat between them now all the more intense for the touches of the ice.

The forgotten remainder of the snow swiftly melts away in the fast-heating air of the tent.

**Author's Note:**

> Mando'a translations:
> 
> jai'galaar - shriek-hawk, a predatory bird. Emblem of the Vizsla family and of the Death Watch.
> 
> Beskar kar'ta - iron heart, nickname for diamond-shaped centre point of a Mandalorian suit of armour
> 
> kyr'bes - skull, specifically that of a Mythosaur, the icon of Mandalorian culture
> 
> Ca'senaar - nightbird/owl


End file.
